


she'll never know it

by Anonymous



Series: 1-3 AM; the egg plagues me [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Knotting, Masturbation, Other, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, So expect some ooc, Solo, Yall dont take this serious, this is purely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He thinks things he shouldn't, craves for them to become a reality while shoving them aside in the same breath of a moment.





	she'll never know it

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3:30 am. I've spend the entire night playing Inquistion. I wanted to write porn to see if I could and...well..
> 
> Take this self-indulgent trash. Sorry in advance for any errors!

Evelyn is the taunt muscle between his brows.

She affects him more than she should, but such was her nature once something was bared beneath her attention. Those of the inner circle blossomed under such careful, considerate speculation, and leaned into her like wildflowers from cold shade to the golden warmth of the sun. Solas, on the other hand, cannot afford such comfort in full-fledged earnesty. Half-truths and masks have taken him far, can lead him further, but Evelyn does not deserve such deception. It would only makes things difficult, in the end. He repeats the thought as she gives him a tentative smile and waves while cutting across the rotunda towards the commander's office. Her violet tunic offsets her eyes, entices his own to the curve of her breast, the jut and swish of a hip, which only leads to him ensnared by the smooth movements of her legs. He thinks things he shouldn't, craves for them to become a reality while shoving them aside in the same breath of a moment.

Evelyn is the choked lump in his throat, the stone bottoming in his chest and tugging downwards. 

He chances only a small nod back, words would be a betrayal. He is delayed in realizing how he tilts to rest his weight on his right arm, to lean after her vanishing presence. She's gone and his exhale is harsh and filled with frustrations.

Urgent fingers press between his furrowed eyebrows, work at the firm knot of self agitation. This has to end, he tells himself, even as he pauses his studies to vacate himself to his quarters, a place of solitude that he desperately needs. He doesn't make it past the closed door and presses his back to it with his hands scrambling to free himself, hard and wanting, from his leggings. His reservations stagnate, lost to the pounding of blood in his ears, overwhelmed by the first drag of his palm over stiff, aching flesh. It's not enough, it will never be enough, but he will force it to be. 

Force himself to be satisfied with this, he declares, head thudding against the door as if that is reason enough to let this continue. So easily he can imagine Evelyn before him, encouraging him with that soft-spoken manner and fire in her eyes. For him, a gentle breathing of “ _ Solas _ ”. He groans desperately at that, thumb flicking rapidly over his slickened tip, mind conjuring the imitation of a pink tongue teasingly doing the same. He shutters hard at that, and tortures himself further, clear liquid beading and spilling over clenched fingers as he halts himself. He works his hand much slower, he wants this to last, to be the only time he does this today despite knowing better. There's always a second, sometimes third time. Building thoughts at how Evelyn would react (maybe slack jawed with shock, hopefully dark eyed with wanting), seeing sweat building up on his flush skin, hips moving of their own accord with his cock tight in his stroking grip, all but weeping in want for her, has him choked.

Before long every stray fantasy that has hounded him during the day, every overly observant fascination of her form is luring release from him. Careful, teasing strokes become messy and rapid, buzzing with light electricity. His palm bumps harshly at the bulge forming at the base of his cock and it presses against the unyielding circle of his fist. Evelyn, being so open, so adaptive to every situation, heading in bravely yet with such consideration, she would take it, wouldn't she? Lips parted and eyes wide yet heavy with lust, whining softly as to what she's feeling, how's he's filling her so thickly all while pressing down to accept more into her slick quim. A damning voice takes her tone, whispers while he gasps and grunts into the stifling air  and thrusts up unevenly into his frantic hand.

_ She would take all of you. Let you fuck her until she was hoarse and dripping and the knot stuck while you painted her cunt with your pleasure _ .  _ She would take it all and beg for more. _

" _ Evelyn _ ," is the name he hisses to the silence of his room, into the tense snapping of his climax, coaxing pulse after pulse of white stripes from his twitching cock. Thick and hot, it coats the floor with little dull thuds as he milks himself for more, sensitive yet still wanting, cupping the knot and wishing it was something it wasn't. 

_ Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn.      _

Once his breathing evens out, Solas glares hard at the stained floor, recoils internally from the sweat drying on his skin. He still cups the slow to release knot, rolling his hips tiredly into the thought of clenching flesh engulfing and hugging his own.

Solas craves something he should not. Wishes her name to be bitter like a curse in place of it being the only thing he wishes to taste. And he swears she shall never know it.


End file.
